<Begin Segment 7>

TI: Yeah, when, growing up in the rail yard, do you remember, were there certain rules? Because it might have been a dangerous environment if you did certain things? Were there certain things that your dad and mom said you have to be very careful about this?

KO: Yeah, right, right. The tracks ran north and south through the yard. The first, anyhow, the first avenue outside of the yard was Twelfth Avenue. Eleventh Avenue came and dead ended at Lovejoy. Well, anyhow, the yard, if this table is the yard, Tenth Avenue came to Hoyt Street, Eleventh Avenue came to Hoyt Street, and then Twelfth Avenue ran past Hoyt Street all the way to Quimby. The only way we could get out of the yard was to go clear up along the railroad tracks to Lovejoy Street which was the first paved street. If we wanted to go to visit some friends, and there were some Japanese families living on Twelfth, you'd have to cross the railroad tracks to get there.

TI: And these are active tracks?

KO: Yes, because the whole idea of the yard was just not for maintenance, but trains came from all over to be reformed again to go to different destinations. So there was constant movement of trains and engines. And so we were never to actually cross the tracks, that's dangerous. Although the shortest route was from our house across the track to Twelfth Avenue, which was only a block away. And I think my sister Miyo talks about how she didn't want to go up to Lovejoy Street and over to twelfth and then down to Northup or whatever. And she started to cross the track and then was scolded by a railroad worker because she almost got caught between trains. But yes, we ran or walked along the track to the first paved street.

TI: So one big rule was never cross the tracks.

KO: That's right.

TI: And so any other kind of rules that you had to follow, like... yeah, that you remember? Like when you were playing with balls and stuff, that was encouraged, or just anything like that? Or could you pretty much do anything you normally would do, but you just had to do it in more of a confined space?

KO: There was really no space for, other than the boxcar... we went to the playground, the North Park Blocks were about a half a mile away where most, all the kids from Japantown, Chinatown, met and played. And so we spent a lot of time at the North Park Blocks.

TI: Now did you, was there ever a stigma attached that you lived in a boxcar? So you had the other Japanese kids, they were in Japantown, they were living in houses, and then you and your siblings lived in a boxcar. So at the end of play, you would go one way and they would go the other way. Were you ever teased, like, "Kenji, you live in a boxcar," versus a house?

KO: [Laughs] You know, no kids ever came to our house. I don't think they ever knew where we lived. No, I was never teased about that. I don't remember being teased in any particular way. The only, I think the only thing that, if there was any, I don't say teasing, but I did have an inferiority complex, because it seemed like all the kids had paved streets and nice clothes and bicycles and scooters and things like that, and we didn't have any of that stuff. And I don't think I said it quite, I wasn't quite as vocal about that, but my sister, one of them, said, "I hate being poor." And my sister Fumi made it her life's goal to say, "I'm gonna make money and be comfortable, but I'm never gonna live like this." My other sisters didn't quite see it that way. My sister Miyo admired my father's hard work and his leadership in the community. My sister Masako says those were character building, to do without and to be strong and resourceful. I never heard my brother talk about things, but I think he was a little bit... when he moved out of the yard, he was six years old, so I don't think he remembers too much about it. I may be wrong about that.

TI: Well, and how would you say it affected you? You talked about your siblings, like one say, "I never want to be poor," and focus on that, what was the impact on you?

KO: Well, I tended to exaggerate and lie a little bit. Like the bicycle I never had... but because none of the kids ever came to our house to check me out, I'd say, "Oh, yeah, I got this bicycle, but we can't take it out because it's kind of new and dangerous," and stuff like that. I have to, even at this time in my life, gosh, eighty-six years old, have to say, "Now, don't lie, or don't exaggerate." [Laughs]

TI: Interesting. But when I think about what your father was doing, he was a railroad yard foreman. So I'm sure there were probably discriminatory practices in terms of maybe not paying him as much as maybe a white foreman, but it was probably, for the Japanese community, a fairly good paying job, wouldn't it be?

KO: I don't know if it was good paying or not, but of course, the railroad company loved him and loved all the Japanese workers who came because they weren't being paid like white people would, or a respectable white person wouldn't work that hard for that kind of money. But it was, he was respected in the community as, you know, I don't know how you would say, but my sister Miyo especially loved my father so much. A few years back -- when I say few years, like twenty years ago -- when someone was writing about the Japanese community in Portland, she would come to me and say, "Would you tell them how good your father was and how important he was to the community?" But he did have a position of respect. People would say, "If you want to go find (work), go down to the North Bank and talk to Onishi." And some of the young fellows I remember used to come to the yard looking for work. Not that my father could hire them directly, but he had the position to say, "I'll recommend your name to the company and we'll see what we can do."

TI: Which, again, I'm thinking about the years he was doing this, this was the Depression. For many people, it was really hard to even bring in enough to just eat and have a place to stay.

KO: Right.

<End Segment 7> - Copyright © 2014 Oregon Nikkei Endowment and Densho. All Rights Reserved.